Give Me Your Eyes
by Silverneko9lives0
Summary: Don't read if you don't like religion/theology. Takes place after "Dark Side of the Moon" in season 5. Dean is tired of all that he's done for the world and the weight is too heavy. Finally, he lashes out. And the one person he lashes out at answers him.


_**Give Me Your Eyes**_

_Don't read if you don't like religion or theology. Takes place after "Dark Side of the Moon" in season 5. Dean is tired of all that he's done for the world and the weight is too heavy. Finally, he lashes out. And the one person he lashes out at gives him answers._

I threw my head back, downing whiskey. I don't know what Sam's up to, or Cas, but I do know that we've been abandoned. I hate Him. My last chance and He refused to help us. I thought we were his greatest creation.

Well, I'm sick of it. Isn't God supposed to be the ultimate dad? All he's proven is that he cares about none of us!

A strong sense of anger bubbles inside me. My hands are shaking. In a lapse of self control, I throw the bottle.

"Can you hear me you bastard!" I shout at the ceiling. "I'm sick of you! Why won't you do anything! Why won't you stop this if you're so powerful!"

"Dean, shut up," a voice said behind me. I turn around. This guy standing beside me is dressed in a plaid white and red shirt and run down jeans. His shoes are old and slightly tattered. His jean jacket has a couple patches. His hair is light brown and his eyes are brown. His beard is full, making him look older than he probably is. He seems to be a little older than me.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I think we should talk," he said, leaning against the table. He picked up another bottle of liquor and pours himself a drink. And another for myself. He hands it to me. I am hesitant to take it. He sets it down again and downs his glass.

"I'm not going to ask again."

"I'm Castiel's dad." He said. "Well, that's what you call me anyway. Others call me God."

I scoff. God? Here? No burning bush? No bleeding forehead? No bright light? Hell! He doesn't even look like Morgan Freeman.

"Well, then, _God_," I say, "Give me one reason not to gank you right now."

"Because I've been ganked already," He said. "A couple millennia ago, I was ganged up on, beaten, falsely charged, and brutally murdered. Do you know for what?"

"Don't you dare say that you let yourself be killed to save the world," I growled at him.

"Then what do you want me to say, Dean?" God asked. "Because that's exactly what I did. You're at the end of your rope. You're so tired that you don't know what to do and you want to give up. You are just a hair's width away from falling off a cliff and letting Michael take your body. I don't want that anymore than you do. And I wish I could help, but I had my time and I was scared shitless when I did, Dean. Still, I did my job. Times I didn't like it and I wished, man, how I wished it didn't have to go down the way it did. I didn't want to die anymore than you want to let Michael into your body."

The way He spoke was shocking.

"You can't be God."

"I _am_ God," He said. "Maybe I should have been a little more clear: I am God the Son, not the Father. Therein lies the difference. Kind of."

I couldn't stop myself from scoffing again. "You're Jesus."

"Yeah, that's one of my names. One I'm most commonly known by."

"Well, then Jesus," I say, taking the glass. "Tell me why I have this weight on my shoulders?"

"Because you won't let me take it," Jesus said. "And maybe you should skip a little to the end of Revelation."

"And spoil the story?"

"You need to spoil the story, Dean, with the way you and everyone else are acting." He picked up the Bible and opened it at the end. "Start at Chapter 19." He handed it to me and I began to read. I skimmed mostly, but each part I read…it gave me hope. Then I stopped scanning when I reached chapter 22 verse 7.

"_BEHOLD, I AM COMING SOON! BLESSES IS HE WHO KEEPS THE WORDS OF THE PROPHECY IN HIS BOOK!...BEHOLD, I AM COMING SOON! MY REWARD IS WITH ME, AND I WILL GIVE TO EVERYONE ACCORDING TO WHAT HE HAS DONE. I AM THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA, THE FIRST AN THE LAST, THE BEGINNING AND THE END. BLESSED ARE THOSE WHO WASH THEIR ROBES, THAT THEY MAY HAVE THE RIGHT TO THE TREE OF LIFE AND MAY GO THROUGH THE GATES INTO THE CITY. …I, JESUS, HAVE SENT MY ANGEL TO GIVE YOU THIS TESTIMONY FOR THE CHURCHES. I AM THE ROOT AND THE OFFSPRING OF DAVID, AND THE BRIGHT MORNING STAR...I AM COMING SOON."_

"So the reason you won't do anything is because you're going to be coming back for good?" I ask, looking up, but he had vanished. "I don't get it. What does any of this mean? You're letting the world be destroyed because you're going to create a better world? What about the people who are here already? What will happen to them?"

The radio began whacking out again.

"_That's not for you to worry about, Dean. That's my job. All you have to do is worry about your own task. And just for the record: I'm no deadbeat. You just have to look and look hard to know that. Watch _Bruce Almighty_. Funny movie. Very well done. And maybe you'll see how what's happening here is not my concern. At least, not yet. Good luck, Dean. And if you need to let go of this feeling you have, just ask me to take it and I'll take it."_

"Then take it!" I shouted at the radio.

Nothing more happened. At least no more voices. But after a moment, I felt as though this heavy weight had lifted off my back. My breathing felt easier, I felt like I could stand taller.

I sat back down on the bed, blinking. Did Jesus really take all that off me? I felt clearer than before. For the first time since I got out of Hell, I felt alive.

Truly alive.


End file.
